#linzi kingmaker

Linzi had performed a few songs and listened to others, Regongar had shown off some of his new abilities (pity the electrocuted scarecrow), and Octavia had fun showing the kids (non-)magic tricks. And the groom’s brother had his own show too, the ranger playing a flute as his bear companion danced on a comfortable bed of soft straw to the delight of the village’s children. Even Harrim had the ghost of a smile at that. It was nice to see a dancing bear without the cruelty too many tamers used!

Or would have been, if these brigands had not shown up. How they got past the increased patrols after Irovetti’s stunt at the Rushlight Tournament was another matter for later. What mattered now was that they had ruined the party and already wounded the ranger when he had asked them to leave. His bear was growling as he stood over his wounded friend protectively. A few militia were arming up in the houses, but they had been caught entirely off guard.

Time to be the hero! Linzi decided as she did her best to stare down the gang. Up, for most of them. Well, she looked down on them morally! And rightly so!

“You?” the leader laughed, bending over as if he could not believe her defiance. “Why spook me silly and fear Calistria’s vengeance, you think you can take us on? With a lute?”

“You haven’t met a real bard, have you?” Linzi grinned. “Music has a magic of its own.”

“Oh, I know what bards can do, and not Academy dropouts,” he jerked his head towards the one in his party. “That’s why I’m not afraid. Why none of us are. What, are we to bow before you? We already bow to a great king!”

Well, that was not her initial plan, but now that he mentioned it…

Linzi hummed, drawing on an operatic dirge as the magic flowed through her body. She could hear the musical echo as it replied, providing her choral backing as she began to chant.

“Then in place of a fool king, you shall have a bard!” Linzi bellowed as her voice warped and darkened like infernal arrogance, her hair billowing up as the magic sent the air rushing upwards, “Not tall, but beautiful! Terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the Tuskwater! Stronger than the foundations of Pitax!”

The brigands reacted, trying to charge forward as the magic enveloped and crashed against their wills. They all tried to resist, they all struggled, and they were all overwhelmed by her presence.

“ALL SHALL LOVE ME, AND THIS BEAR!”

Yes, she was pointing with her free hand towards the previously dancing bear, which growled in confusion at the noise and light show.

The brigands had all fallen to their knees, prostrating themselves to the power of her voice just in time for Regongar and Octavia to come out as the magic faded. Linzi was out of breath from the effort, but was still standing tall as the other two stepped up (taller) behind her.

The leader’s will had managed to recover enough to break the compulsion as the rest of his gang remained humbled, and he pushed himself back to his feet, hand on his wobbling head.

“Ugh, what did… that voice…” he blinked, seeing Octavia and Regonar, the latter of whom lacked a shirt and thus his draconic wings were on full display. “… oh.”

“Behold,” Harrim’s voice cut it, audible despite the soft tone he spoke with as he stepped around another corner, “one who witnesses his imminent end. If only we all could be so accepting.”

It was a very quickly resolved affair after that. Regongar was quite excited by the idea of what he had seen.

“You’ve got to teach me how to make my voice do that!” Regongar said as he clapped her on the shoulder, causing Linzi to wince from being pushed down. “I mean, dragons make people afraid, right?”

“There are many joys about new life,” Tristian weighed in with a smile, “especially that which you know will have a happy upbringing.”

“And they’re so dang adorable!” Linzi continued as she looked at the others, then to the baroness who was watching with bemusement. The bard glanced up at the sky – it was not a full moon, but now that they were discussing it her mind started to knit together the potential story. Why, what would be more adorable than the heroine living happily ever after?

Another aspect of a story she would not be able to tell, yet. Linzi glanced around to do a head count, making sure that those present were those that already knew. She could hold it in until later, but she’d really rather not if she could. The question was too burning.

The baroness had noticed her question, black hair pulled loose as she had been washing it after a run-in with boggards as they had crossed a stream. She was not wearing her iron armor at the moment, though she did have the dyed green gambeson she wore underneath on still. Jocelyn tilted her head, then asked: “What are you thinking about, Linzi? I know that look.”

“Just a thought… what are kid werewolves like? Are they were-puppies?”

“You know, that is a good question…” Octavia turned her attention towards the baroness.

“So, how adorable?” Kaessi asked.

“Not nearly as much as you would think,” Jocelyn pointed out as her shoulders sagged slightly. “If cursed, it’s no different than adults other than being even more horrific.”

“I believe Linzi meant inherited.” Ekun’s clarification was short but entirely accurate.

“In that case, a lot of uncontrolled partial transformations.”

“How so?” Kaessi asked, genuinely curious as she leaned forward.

“Think a leg halfway between human and wolf, or hair growing along the spine or feet only, or fangs coming in forcing them to open their mouths, until they sneeze and now there’s a tail sticking out.” Jocelyn shook her head. “I could go on.”

“At least they don’t piss on the floor as much, right?” Regongar asked, grinning as he rested a hand on Octavia’s shoulder.

Jocelyn sighed, shaking her head, and Linzi was left wondering just how many of those examples were spoken from personal experience. Regongar seemed to think so as he chuckled to himself, while Tristian seemed to be secondhand embarrassed at the display.

For her part, Linzi was trying to imagine it, though since her only exposure was with the fully grown and quite in control of her natural lycanthropy baroness, she did not have much reference.

Well, yet. They would settle down eventually! Besides, every great story needed a sequel, right?

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A quick note: Jocelyn was the character I rolled when I first played Kingmaker as my first foray into Pathfinder. I rolled her as an Iomedean paladin, though she ended up build wise being Elaina's prototype for when I moved on to Wrath. Initially I wasn't going to develop her too much as overlapping too much with Elaina. At least until I hit some different angles I could explore, since I'd named the kingdom 'Gevaudan' and the 'They're in this Together!' problem (where people accuse the baroness of being a werecreature) kept popping up.

“C’mon,” Amiri growled, clearly unhappy without her oversized sword in favor of the javelins, hatchet, and small shield of a skirmisher, “We went over this a bunch of times. I’m not dumb, I’m even learning those stupid letters!”

“Stories fall apart in the details,” Ekun retorted, having wrapped his head in cloth in a Thuvian style. “I will start: Taiwo, mercenary from Thuvia. Came north to see the world, offered to guide Tristian’s party. Prefer to be left alone.”

Amiri grunted, shaking head. “Fine - Valeria, thief from Numeria. Got caught robbing a League tower, sold as a slave, broke out after pushing a mill wheel for years, looking for a new life in Gevaudan.” She glanced at Octavia, “You next.”

“You had to use that as a background…” the wizardess exhaled, shaking her head despite the large pointy hat and thick black robes she was wearing. “Okay: Aurelia, necromancer from Galt trying to redeem herself. Fond of quite good whisky, late night strolls, and hates cities.”

Their attention turned to Kaessi, wearing a worn gambeson with a spear propped next to her seat on a log. “Layla. I came here to make a new life away from Qadira, joined a village militia with other settlers, and deserted after the troll attacks.” She cast a particularly harsh glare towards Tristian - the kind that stayed whether she was feeling kind or harsh that day. “So why does he not need to lie?”

“Amalia is… not fully aware,” Tristan admitted, looking down as if in shame as he was judged by kindness. “She knows me only as a humble pilgrim who was interested in how the Kingdom of the Cleansed offers redemption.”

“The covers were my suggestion,” Ekundayo added, “to reduce suspicion.” He turned to Linzi, then frowned at her notes. “I thought you left the book behind? Too iconic.”

Linzi exhaled. Yes, he had been quite firm on that. “A Cavalier of the Paw still has her entry in the annals to consider! A worthy cause sought, and a worthier one to charge into!” She stood up, the heroicness of the pose rather dampened by stumbling. Linzi was unused to the weight of maille on her shoulders, even with the belt of strength that Valerie had lent her.

“Regardless,” the bard-pretending-to-be-cavalier continued, “You can be sure to follow Brynn into gllloorrrrrrious battle!”

“Speaking of paws,” Amiri grumbled, “where’s Dog?”

Ekun sighed. “Too known. Besides, someone else plays the role of war wolf. Brynn?”

“Oh, right,” Linzi had almost forgotten the most important part! “Thank you Sir Tristian for keeping an eye on Gnaw while at Tuskdale!”

She could see Kaessi tilting her head and mouthing ‘Gnaw’ in confusion as the large black furred wolf rose and sniffed Tristian’s hand.

“Perhaps you should get her out of the harness for tonight,” Tristian suggested, gesturing towards Linzi.

“Oh, of course!” Linzi really should have known better. She didn’t have a squire, after all! Then again, I end up playing squire often enough… she thought as she started removing the strapping. Oh, if only she could write what she was really doing: she knew readers would have a laugh at it.

Hopefully the Baroness did not realize it either. That would be awkward. And embarrassing.

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